What led to our marriage
by lady knight Ardia
Summary: Arnold suddenly shows up on Helga's doorstep only hours after he was supposed to be married to someone else. One off. Really condensed version of a big story that I really didn't have the time to do. It's been a while, so go easy okay?


(Can't be bothered doing a big old chapter story, so this is a story idea I had severely condensed. I don't own Helga, Gerald, Arnold, Phoebe or Lila)

"Stop breaking my concentration you sexy beast you!" Helga teased her model.  
"Alright, alright," he said, putting his hands up in defence.  
Helga smiled and went back to her painting. She had been working with Darius a few weeks now. He was commissioning her to paint a portrait as a wedding gift to his fiancée, Gladys. He was wonderful, kind, funny, smart and witty enough to keep up with her.  
He was also taken. By one of her best friends, no less. She sighed. When was she going to break this drought?  
"What's up, Helga babe?" he asked, adjusting himself on the stool.  
"I need some fun," she said wistfully. "Some excitement. I need a lover-"  
BANG BANG BANG.  
They both looked towards the front door to her studio apartment. She'd bought it with her first sales and paid it off completely with the completion of her first commission. She was also now debt free, having worked her way through college. Big Bob had given her a huge chunk to pay for her studies, which she found out he had been squirrelling away for her, hidden from both Miriam and Olga.  
"Tell no one girl," he told her. "It will cover your fees, but you'll need to pay for food and such."  
Helga had almost dropped dead on the spot when he handed her the card for the account. She couldn't believe it. She had gotten a job that covered her weekly bills so she didn't need to dip into her course money. It had helped a lot and every now and then she still received a check from her father. He was proud of his daughter. She had chosen what she wanted to do with her life, and stuck with it. She had made a career of sorts, though he wouldn't call it career, and had her own home.  
"A self-made woman, my Helga is," he would boast. It sometimes embarrassed her.  
"I'll be back on a sec," she told Darius, and went to open the door. "Oh my, God!"  
Opening the door she saw standing there, a mid-twenties blonde male, bright green eyes, football shaped head, leaning casually against her door frame.  
"Heya, Hell Girl," he said, smiling at her and inviting himself in. "Nice place."  
"Football Head?" she asked astonished. "What are you doing here?"  
"Well, I happened to be in the neighbourhood and thought to myself, 'You know who you haven't seen in a while? Helga.' So here I am," he told her smiling.  
"Dude, you look like you're getting married," Darius spoke up. Arnold turned around on his heel and smiled at him.  
"About three hours ago I was," he said.  
"What happened?" Helga asked curiously. "And why are you here?"  
"Cold feet, and I need to lay low for a while," he said. "Mind if I stay here?"  
"Here?" Helga asked. "What? How did you even find here?"  
"I looked you up in Phoebe's phonebook, matched your number to name in the phone book and voila! Helga Pataki, 779-"  
"I know my address!" she snapped.  
"Hey, how about we finish this tomorrow?" Darius said suddenly.  
"What?" Helga asked, breaking eye contact with Arnold and looking over at him. "Oh, um, yeah. I'll see you and Glady's tonight though."  
"Alright, see you then," he said, leaning in and kissing her cheek. He nodded at Arnold and left, closing the door behind him.  
"Boyfriend?" Arnold asked, walking over to the couch and sitting down.  
"No," she said, not giving anymore away. Who did Arnold think he was, walking into her apartment like he owned it? "Please. Make yourself at home."  
"Does that mean I can stay?" he asked.  
"Do you have a job?" she asked. "Cause I'm not going to support a bum."  
Arnold nodded, looking her over. She had improved. A lot.  
"Fine, a hundred for my spare room, split the bills, and no strangers," she told him. "This is too bizarre." Helga dropped down on the couch next to him.  
"Tell me about it," he added. "A few hours ago I was getting married!"  
"What made you change your mind?" she asked.  
"Saw her fucking Gerald in the bathroom," he told her.  
"Aren't you mad? I'd be screaming murder! No, I'd just go straight to murder, no screaming. Wouldn't want to bring witnesses," Helga said.  
"Well, I'm not completely innocent," Arnold said.  
"What do you mean?" Helga asked. Arnold shrugged.  
"I spent last night with her maid-of-honour."

…..

He followed her out that night. Helga had text Phoebe to tell her about him showing up on her doorstep.  
"Oh my," she gasped. "How are you taking it?"  
"Pretty well, though it may be shock," she'd said. "Anyway, I'm going out tonight, so I'll see you over the weekend?"  
"Yes, I'll be there tomorrow," Phoebe told her. "Gosh, this is insane."  
"Tell me about it."  
"Okay, so here's the deal," Helga told him. "I'm a single woman. I am looking for a bit of fun, nothing else. So don't get in my way, and I won't get in yours."  
"Deal," Arnold said, smiling. Man she was hot tonight. 'Keep it in your pants!' his brain screamed at him. He sighed. Yeah, that paid off well last time. 'You need a place to stay, don't stuff this up!'  
He met her new group of friends and listened as they talked. They spoke mostly of authors and philosophies and artists and other people and teachers he didn't know. He realised then that he knew nothing about Helga. At all. Not anymore, anyway. She looked back and smiled at him a couple of times.  
"I love you!" he could hear her childish voice yelling at him. He shivered. Was that young girl really this woman who was standing in front of him now? They hadn't dated in high school. Helga had stayed strong with Phoebe and Lila. Lila had moved back to her hometown, caught up with an old friend, and married him. Phoebe and Gerald dated for a month, but Phoebe found him boring as his life was all about sports. Arnold had gone with swimming. No chance of killing anyone with stray balls.  
Finally he tapped her shoulder.  
"Yeah?" she asked, turning around. Arnold smiled at her.  
"So, you come here often?"

…

Helga laid awake in her bed, cursing herself. What the hell had she been thinking? Gah! She couldn't even get away from Arnold. He was staying with her. She looked over at him. He was fast asleep, a smiled on his face.  
"Yeah, I'll bet he's happy," she grumbled, sitting up and looking around for her clothes. God, how pathetic was this? Escaping her own bed in her own bedroom in her own apartment. Sighing she threw her blankets off and made her way to the bathroom. She turned the shower one and stepped in. at least she could do this. She smiled into the hot water, not even hearing the door open.  
"I need to buy a toothbrush," she heard someone say beside her. She started, and almost fell over in the stall.  
"Fucking shit!" she screamed. "What the hell is wrong with you, sneaking up on me like that?"  
"Not my problem you didn't hear me knock," he told her smiling. "Can I join you?"  
"No, my shower," she said. The stall door opened anyway.  
"Come on, Helga," he said from right behind her.  
"Do you have any idea how weird and insane this is?" she asked. "You showed up on my doorstep yesterday, hours after you were supposed to get married, in bed with me last night, climbing in the shower with me this morning."  
"Too fast?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her up against his naked body, and kissing her neck.  
"Break neck," she said, wriggling out of his grasp, and exiting. "You need to sort your shit out, Arnold." She wrapped her towel around her and left him standing alone in the shower.

…

Arnold watched Helga butter her toast.

"Where's mine?" he asked, half serious.

"You have arms and legs, Arnold. Use them," Helga told him, taking a bite out of her toast.

"Do you treat all your guests this way?" he asked.

"No, I never bring them home," she said. "I always go to their place. Look Arnold, this isn't some little love nest. We had sex. I'm not going to turn into some domestic goddess, if that's what your looking for."

"No, no, I just thought-"

"Well don't," she said, picking up her coffee and walking towards her studio room. "You can find your way around alright?"

Arnold nodded.

"Okay," she said, walking into her studio and shutting the door, leaving Arnold sitting at the kitchen counter dumb struck.

"Wow, first time this has happened to me."

…

Arnold answered the door just after lunch. His hangover had kicked in. he looked toward the room Helga had dissappeared into and wondered how she was not dying from the noise her radio was making. Or maybe she had died already. Should he have checked on her?

"Hello, Arnold," Phoebe greeted him. "Is Helga home?"

"She's in her studio," he said, stepping back. "Um, so-"

"Gerald and Lucy are playing the blame game," she told him. "At the moment they're busy ripping each other apart, rather than coming after you. Though I don't expect it to last long."

Phoebe continued past him and entered the room Helga had gone into.

….

"So what happened?" Phoebe asked, dropping her purse onto the floor and sitting down on the chaise.

"I cancelled Darius today, for starters," she told her. "No way would I be able to concentrate. And Arnold and I slept together last night. Alcohol was involved."

"Of course it was," Phoebe said sighing. "Nature must laugh her butt off at us stupid humans."

"Pheebs, we laugh at us stupid humans," Helga told her. "She probably just wonders where they heck she went wrong."

"True," she conceded. "So what happened?"

"He just showed up on my doorstep yesterday, dressed to the nines, came in, made himself at home, explained he caught his finacee and Gerald in the toilets-"

"Ugh, who does that? I mean the toilets?" Phoebe said, making a gagging face. "Classy."

Helga laughed.

"Well apparently Arnold had been off with the maid-of-honour the night before," she said. "I don't know these people."

"Okay, well, Gerald had sex with Lucy, to get back at Arnold for having sex with Elizabeth," Phoebe told her.

"Who's Elizabeth?" Helga asked, turning back to her painting.

"Gerald's girlfriend," Phoebe told her.

"Seriously?" Helga asked.

"Yep. Anyway, Lucy found out why Gerald was sniffing around her and is crazy mad at him saying it's his fault Arnold took off," Phoebe concluded. "At least, that's what I'm figuring."

"Okay, it's official," Helga said, putting her paint brush down. "He's out."

"Out?"

"Yeah, I'm not having soap drama follow his cheating, lying ass here," Helga said. "This is my sanctuary. I'm not having it sullied."

"Helga-"

"What?"

"Elizabeth looks a lot like you," Phoebe said.

"So?"

"So, think about it. He's been cheating on his fiancée with a girl who looks like you," Phoebe told her. "Then he takes off, comes here, and Elizabeth hasn't heard from him at all. He's not answering her texts or calls or anything."

"What are you trying to say?" Helga asked, though she had an idea that she knew what the answer was going to be.

"I think he was looking for you."

…..

Helga did cook dinner that night for Arnold. She placed in front of him.

"Thanks," he said, looking at it. "What is it?"

"Couscous with chorizo and chickpeas," she told him. "If you don't want it put it in a container and I'll eat it for lunch tomorrow."

"So what did you and Phoebe talk about?" he asked.

"You," she stated.

"Me?""

"You."

"Why?" he asked.  
"Hmm, let's see . . . um, you show up out of the blue after not talking to me for five years, dressed for your wedding, and begging for a place to stay, come out with me, drink with me, fuck me, try to take a shower with me all in less than twenty four hours," she tells him. "What do you think?"

"I think we should top it off by running off to Vegas and getting married," he told her smiling.

"Haha, no," Helga said. "What's going on, Arnold?"

Arnold played with the food on his plate, digging through it with his fork.

"I had this dream," he told her. "The week before, and in it my grandparents were sitting in the front row shaking their heads and telling me I was making a mistake."

"Okay, but it was just a dream," she told him. He shook his head.

"It was more than that," he said. "In it my grandpa takes me to the packard and drives me to the old FTi building and your there, waiting for me."

Helga takes a deep breath.

"I remembered it all, and when I look to get away my grandparents are there smiling," he admitted. "I took it as a sign."

"Arnold, we were nine. It was sixteen years ago," she told him.

"But I couldn't get rid of your voice," he yelled, standing up. "Everytime any girl ever told me she loved me, I always remembered that morning, Helga! Always. It was your voice I would hear. Do you have any idea how badly you affected me?"

"Okay, I'm sorry," she said. "But what-"

"I couldn't never find you!" he yelled again.

"Listen, can you keep it down a bit?" she asked.

"So when Elizabeth caught me at Phoebe's I made something up," he said. "That's how it happened. Then I snuck into her office, found out where you lived, and came here."

"Okay, now I'm thinking I should call the police," she said. "Should I call the police?"

"I wanted to find you before I got married, fuck you, get you out of my system, then I could go off and forget about you," he said, pacing.

"Gee, thanks, now I feel special," she said. "You're a real romantic."

He stopped and stared hard at her.

"What?" she asked, looking uncomfortable. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"It didn't work," he said. Before she could say anything, he strode over to her, threw her over his shoulder, and despite her protests took her to the room.

….

Two Years Later

"You think he'll show up?" Phoebe asked.

"He'd better," Helga said, doing up her sandal. "I'll track him down and kill him if he doesn't. This is embarrassing enough without getting left at the isle as well."

"Well, you look beautiful," Gladys told her smiling. "Would you have believed it the day he showed up so randomly that you would be marrying him?"

"No," she said. "Honestly, on the second day I thought I would be calling the police and reporting him a stalker."

Gladys and Phoebe laughed nervously. Mostly because they knew she wasn't lying.

"Sooo, when are you due?" Gladys asked.

"November," Helga told her. Then stopped. "How'd you-"

"You didn't hide the test well," Gladys told her.

"Helga! Your pregnant?" Phoebe squealed.

"Shhhh, keep it quiet," she told them. "I only found out last week. I'm seven weeks. I could still lose it. So let's keep it to ourselves, okay?"

"Does Arnold know?" Phoebe asked, concerned. Helga rolled her eyes.

"Of course he knows, Pheebs," Helga said. "I gave him a chance to call it off, silly sod goes and gets excited about it."

"Oh, will you be moving?" Gladys asked.

"Probably," she answered. A knock on the door alerted the girls to the fact it was ready to go.

"And here we go," Phoebe said, opening the door to see Big Bob Pataki standing there, a huge proud grin plastered on his face, looking like he was ready to cry.

"Dad, if you cry, I'll leave you at the door, I swear it," Helga threatened.

"Glad to see you kept your spirit," he said, kissing her forehead, and leading her away to her future.

…..

Ten years later.

BANG!

Helga looked up from her sketch book to see her son dragging his bag along the floor, covered in paint, with feathers all over him.

"What happened?" she asked.

"This stupid girl at school who's always picking on me did it," he said, dropping down on the couch. "She just won't leave me alone. What should I do?"

His father came in, hearing the conversation.

"Do what I did with my childhood bully," he said.

"What did you do?" he asked, leaning forward.

"I married her."

END


End file.
